


A Conspiracy of Hobbits

by Dreamflower



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Conspiracies, Family, Friendship, Getting Ready, How it all started, Light Angst, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 10:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30003633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamflower/pseuds/Dreamflower
Summary: This is my idea of how the famous conspiracy of Frodo's friends came about.
Relationships: Rose Cotton/Sam Gamgee
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my third chaptered story; it was originally written in 2004, and posted first at Stories of Arda. I am cross-posting it here now. The only changes I will make to the original are only to correct typos and to fix a few formatting errors. So please be forgiving of some of my other errors. I tried to keep it as close to canon as I could, but I wanted to show how the characters came to form their conspiracy and how it affected them.  
> This is strictly a book-verse story, although the appearance of some characters and some of the props owe a bit of inspiration from the films.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippin stumbles upon a secret.

CHAPTER 1

Pippin Took was angry, puzzled and curious; a dangerous combination.

He had looked forward to the arrival of numerous relations at the Great Smials to celebrate the birth of his sister Pimpernel’s second child. He’d not seen his cousin Merry in weeks, nor his cousin Frodo in a couple of months.

But they had been here for two days already and he’d yet to have a conversation alone with Merry, almost as if his Brandybuck cousin was avoiding him. And then he’d gone for a walk with his Baggins cousin this morning only to find that Frodo was distracted and pensive. He’d keep stopping to pat trees, and once he looked at the view down the Green Hills and muttered “I wonder if I shall ever look at this valley again,” a statement that Pippin found alarming and strange. Well. Stranger than usual for Frodo, anyway. He was beginning to have a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But not for nothing was he a Took. Nobody could beat the Tooks for deviousness or determination, which explained why he was hiding under Merry’s guest room window and eavesdropping for all he was worth.

“You will watch after him, won’t you, Fatty?” Merry’s voice was wistful and plaintive.

“Merry, you have to be joking!” Fatty Bolger’s voice sounded more alarmed than anything else. “Pippin doesn’t even like me. He thinks I’m dull as ditchwater without an original thought in my head. I’m the last person he’d let watch after him.”

From his vantage point behind a bush, Pippin’s eyebrows climbed. He’d no idea Fatty was intelligent enough to know what he thought of him, and so accurately, too.

Merry’s voice moved nearer the window and Pippin huddled down more.

“Pip will never forgive me, you know. I’m going to be breaking all kinds of promises.” Merry’s voice cracked, and Pippin could tell he was on the verge of tears. He’d feel sorry for him if he weren’t too busy being annoyed--and curious.

Fatty muttered something that he couldn’t hear, undoubtedly meant to be soothing.

“It’s just that I never thought I’d have to choose between them. But I can’t let Frodo go into this kind of danger without me, and I can’t take Pip into this kind of danger with me.”

And now he knew.

It explained everything: the looks, the hints, the sudden silences, the awkward changes of subject--

Fatty’s voice again “What makes you think Frodo isn’t going to feel exactly the same about you as you do about Pip? He’s not going to want to take you for the very same reason.” Pippin’s opinion of Fatty’s intelligence went up another notch.

“Of course he won’t” came Merry’s reply. He sounded perfectly miserable. Served him right. “Why else would I have to sneak around behind his back like this and spy on him? I’ll wait until he’s almost ready to leave, and then I _tell_ him, not ask him. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just have to follow them until he and Sam have gone too far to send me back.”

Sounded like a very good plan, thought Pippin, only I will have to spy on Frodo _and_ Merry. But he’d learned one thing already. Frodo’s gardener Samwise Gamgee was in on it, too.

“Well, I shall be glad to help all I can in the sneaking and spying department, and in planning your escape. But all the same, I’m glad you don’t expect me to come along.” Fatty gave a rueful laugh.

“Oh, Fatty, that’s the only reason I can ask your help. I know I don’t have to worry about you wanting to come along.” Merry laughed also, but it sounded forced. “I don’t look forward to this myself. This is not the kind of adventure I always thought to have one day. I’m more than a little frightened. But I have to protect Frodo. I just wish I had a chance to make Pip understand.”

“Well, avoiding him is just going to make him suspicious, Merry. I think you’d better make an effort to act more natural around him; Pip’s young, but you know he’s no fool even if he is a Took. And speaking of acting natural, we don’t want to be late for luncheon, do we?”

Merry’s reply was lost as he moved away from the window, but apparently he agreed with last sentence since Pippin could hear them moving away and the door open and shut. He waited for a second, and then uncurled himself from behind the bush and brushed himself off. Apparently, Fatty was no fool either, even if he was a stodgy old Bolger. This gave him the beginnings of an idea.

-oo000oo-

In the large dining hall he spotted Merry. He was over in a corner, apparently having a conversation with Folco Boffin, but his eyes were on Frodo, who was on the other side of the room doting over Pimpernel’s newest arrival, little Alyssum Goodbody. In fact, he looked as though he was staring holes into Frodo, and Pippin wondered that his older cousin had not noticed he was being watched with such intent regard.

Pippin sidled down the room, keeping out of Merry’s view, and came silently up behind him. “Hullo, Merry, Hullo Folco.” He had the satisfaction of seeing Merry jump. He grinned to himself. As long as he could keep one step ahead of Merry, this little game could be fun--especially since he knew he was playing it, and Merry did not.

“Pippin, where did you pop out from?”

“I live here, remember? You know, if I didn’t know better, cousin, I’d think you were trying to avoid me.”

Folco laughed. “Now that’s funny! You two are joined at the hip. Everybody knows that.” This earned him a reproachful stare from Merry and an annoyed one from Pippin.

“Pip, I don’t know what in the world would give you an idea like that.” No one but Pippin, or maybe Frodo, would have noticed the slight squeak in his voice, or that he used too many words to answer. Yes, indeed, cousin Merry had a guilty conscience. Good. Plan on sneaking away without his Pip, would he?

Merry’s eyes once more strayed in Frodo’s direction, and this time Pippin let his gaze follow. “You know, Merry, I went for a walk with Frodo this morning. He was acting very odd.”

“How could you tell?” said Folco, trying to be witty. This time he got a glare from both Took and Brandybuck. “All right! All right! I can tell I’m not wanted.”

As Folco walked off in disgust, wondering how he’d managed to offend them, Merry turned to Pippin. “What do you mean by odd?”

“He didn’t seem interested in singing or even talking to me. He kept talking to himself, saying things like ‘I wonder if I’ll ever go this way again?’ and ‘Will I ever see this place anymore?’ You don’t suppose he’s sick, do you?” Pippin widened his eyes and feigned worry, and then turned his gaze on Frodo again.

“No, no, not at all” Merry assured him. “I’m sure he’s not sick.”

“Well, that’s good, he had me worried. You know how he is.” Of course both the younger hobbits were staring at Frodo again, and now he finally noticed. He turned his eyes on them from across the room and looked puzzled.

Pippin looked back at Merry. “Maybe we should try to wangle an invitation to Bag End when he leaves here.”

Merry’s eyes widened with a hint of panic, but his voice was calm. “Do you think so?”

“Why, yes, Merry. We usually spend a few weeks at Bag End in the spring, and maybe we can find out what’s troubling him. You can get away, can’t you?”

“Yes--yes, you’re perfectly right, Pip. I’ll talk to Frodo this afternoon.”

Pippin watched the panic drain from Merry’s eyes, to be replaced with speculation. Well, he had him now. And once they got to Bag End, he could keep an eye on both of them at once.  
  
---


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry seeks an ally.

CHAPTER 2

Merry went into the guest room that night and sprawled upon the bed fully dressed. Egads, he was exhausted. Keeping this secret was the most wearing thing he had ever done. It did not help that he was also scared spitless. He did not know which frightened him more--going with Frodo into a danger far greater than he had ever anticipated, or getting left behind after all--or leaving Pip behind.

For a brief instant today, he had thought Pippin suspected. But he put it down to his own jumpy nerves and guilty conscience. Secrets.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. As far back as Merry could remember, he knew that one day he would go on an adventure with his cousin Frodo. When Pippin got older, he had always thought it would be the three of them, heading off into the wide world, to follow Bilbo, and see Elves and Dwarves and other wonders.

Thinking about Bilbo was what had caused Merry to put his plan into motion. Last year when Frodo had held his usual Birthday Party in Bilbo’s honor, and they had raised the toast to the _byrdings,_ it had suddenly dawned on Merry: Frodo was forty-nine, which made Bilbo one hundred twenty-seven. Rather a ripe age for a hobbit, even one with Took blood. If Frodo was planning to one day follow after Bilbo, he would have to do so soon, or there’d be no point in it. And Merry had no intention of letting his older cousin slip off without him.

He needed information. There was no point in bringing Pippin in until he had something real to go on. Pip could keep a secret, though many did not think it of him, but he tended to go overboard in his enthusiasm. Samwise Gamgee, now he spent a lot of time at Bag End, as much Frodo’s friend as his gardener. He had found Sam at The Green Dragon one afternoon in early Winterfilth, and stood him to an ale at an out-of-the-way table.

Merry was not really surprised that Sam was not interested in his coin. And he was only a little surprised at Sam’s counter-offer: he wanted to be included when the time came to leave. Merry briefly considered before agreeing. Sam was stout-hearted, practical, reliable and fiercely protective of Frodo. He’d make an excellent travelling companion.

Merry grinned wickedly at the gardener. “You know that Frodo may not have us on a bet.”

Sam grinned back. “Well, Mr. Merry, we just might have to trail along behind for a little while, and then he’d lose that bet.”

They raised their ales to one another in a silent toast.

-oo000oo-

Yet things had seemed to come to a standstill after that. Oh, Sam had dutifully reported to Merry that Frodo did indeed seem more restless that year, but he showed no signs that he was making any plans for an imminent departure, and Merry had begun to think that his cousin’s quiet, scholarly Baggins side was winning out over his more adventurous Tookish side.

And then the end of the second week in Astron, he received a short letter from Sam: _Dear Mr. Merry--Gandalf is back. S.G._

Merry thought that things would be moving at last. After all, it was the old grey Wizard who had gotten Bilbo out of his cosy home and on the road to adventure in the first place.

Sure enough, a few days later, he had another letter from Sam. _Dear Mr. Merry--Can you come to Hobbiton as soon as possible? I have somewhat to tell you about what we were talking of. It is a lot more important than we thought. S.G._

When he met Sam again at The Green Dragon, the young gardener’s face was anxious, his eyes serious.

“Mr. Merry, I don’t know what you’re going to think of me, but I let myself get caught, and after tonight, I can’t tell you nothing more. I promised. And I‘m sure Mr. Frodo would think I‘m already breaking that promise talking to you now” He stopped and took a pull on his ale. “But I think it’s only fair enough to tell you what all I heard _before_ old Gandalf caught me listening. It’s no pretty story, and Mr. Frodo is in a lot of danger.”

“For goodness’ sake, Sam, he’s not left the Shire yet, how could he be in danger?” 

And then Sam began to tell Merry what Gandalf had told Frodo. And Merry felt the blood drain from his face, and his stomach began to rebel, and he was shivering as if frozen. The One Ring of the Dark Lord. Bilbo’s harmless little magic ring was the most horrible thing imaginable, and it was here in the Shire, drawing danger ever nearer. He downed his ale without even tasting it.

Two things were crystal clear to him: Frodo might as well have a target painted on his back and there was no way he could let Pippin come with them. Not into this kind of trouble.

“It’s still on, Sam,” Merry said with determination. “You’re an excellent fellow, and I’m glad you’ll be going, but Frodo is going to need more than one companion in this kind of trouble.”

“Aye.” But Sam looked miserable, and Merry could not blame him. Sam finished his ale and got up to leave. “I _am_ sorry, Mr. Merry.”

“I know, Sam.” He watched Sam finish his ale and leave.

Merry had remained morosely at the table, his mind working frantically, like an animal in a trap.

He had counted on Sam’s help; now it was lost. Sam had already stretched his promise to the limit, and Merry could ask no more of him. He didn’t really think Gandalf would turn Sam into something--but it would not be a good idea to anger a Wizard.

He had counted on Pippin’s help; now it, too, was lost. No matter how dangerous it was, Pip would never agree to staying behind if he knew they were going. And Pip was just barely twenty-eight. He wouldn’t even be an adult for five more years; to take him into this kind of trouble would be worse than cruel.

He’d give a lot to have his father’s help; but he’d not get it for this. As fond of Frodo as Merry’s father was, the Master of Buckland would never countenance his only son and heir to go off into the Wild on a journey from which he might very well never return.

Who was left? Who could he trust?

Fatty Bolger?

He turned the idea over in his mind. It was not obvious, but it could work.

Fredegar Bolger and his friend Folco Boffin were a couple of years older than Merry. Like Merry and Pippin, who were often thought of as one person with two names, it was so with Fatty and Folco; they were to most observers a pair of amiable half-wits who took nothing seriously. For a long time, Merry had wondered what Frodo saw in them to keep them as friends.

But Merry was nothing if not observant, and he began to discover that while Folco really was a half-wit with a positive talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time--though he was very good-hearted and generous, and never _meant_ any offense--Fatty was putting on an act that easily hid quite a good mind.

It was this that had earned him Frodo’s friendship. Fatty had a taste for books and languages and scholarly pursuits that he hid well from most. Unlike Frodo, however, he really only ever wanted to study those things. He had no desire whatsoever to see any of them in his own person. He was no coward. He had earned Merry’s respect the day he had witnessed Fatty face down Lotho S-B. and his lackey Ted Sandyman for picking on poor Folco; but the idea of leaving the Shire was sheer anathema to him.

And anyone who could hide his intelligence as well as Fatty hid his, could keep a secret.

Fatty Bolger. He’d just have to get hold of him when he didn’t have Folco at his side.

And so he had. And it had at least been a comfort to share his distress with someone else, even if it wasn’t Frodo or Pippin. But it had been more than a week now, and neither of them had come up with any ideas.

But now he’d be going to Bag End, with Frodo and Pippin both there. Maybe he could learn something new--if it did not drive him mad first trying to keep the secret.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry finds his secrets a burden.

CHAPTER 3

Fatty shut the door to the guest room he was staying in behind Folco. He’d just spent a half hour commiserating with him. Somehow his friend in one afternoon had managed to put Merry's and Pippin’s backs up, irritate the Thain, and annoy all three of the Took sisters, including insulting the new baby, all without really knowing why. Fatty loved his friend dearly, no one had a kinder or more generous spirit, but there was a complete lack of connection between Folco’s brain and his mouth.

He sighed and sat down on his bed. He really needed to give some thought to Merry’s problem. He was very frightened. Merry did not have as much knowledge as he as to just how powerful or evil that Ring was. Frodo and Gandalf were right to try and get it out of the Shire. But one of Fatty’s secret vices was a love for Elvish tales and poetry--probably of Hobbits in the Shire, only he and Frodo truly grasped what it meant. He knew the tale of Gil-Galad. He was glad that Merry had confided in him, but he wished the problem did not exist.

When the knock came on the door a moment later, he thought it must be Merry.

“Come on in.” But to his surprise, it was not Merry, but Pippin.

“Hullo, Fatty. I’d like to have a word with you.”

Fatty’s heart sank. Somehow, Pippin was on to them. That was the only explanation for the gleam in those Tookish green eyes.

“Whatever for?” But it was only a half-hearted effort.

“Well, I have come to the conclusion that I have been misjudging you all these years, and that you are not in fact, ‘as dull as ditchwater’.”

Fatty moaned. “You were eavesdropping.”

“Yes, that I was,” said Pippin unapologetically. “I want to know exactly what’s up with Frodo and Merry. And don’t even think of not telling me.”

“Merry will have my guts for garters.”

“So will I. You know I’m going to find out sooner or later. Let’s make it sooner.” Though Pippin’s tone was light, the expression on his face was determined. “I’ll never let anyone know I heard it from you.”

“You’re not going to like this. It’s very serious indeed, maybe even more serious than Merry realises.”

“I don’t have to like it, Fatty. I just have to know.”

And so once more Gandalf’s conversation with Frodo was passed along.

Pippin sat in silence for so long that Fatty began to wonder if he had understood. Finally he shook his head. “Whew! Poor Frodo. And now I understand why Merry doesn’t want me to come along; he‘s got to protect his little Pip, silly goose. But they are going to need me, whether they like it or not.”

Fatty shook his head; he was glad he was a Bolger, with no desires to leave his home.

-oo000oo-

Sam stood back and admired his handiwork. He had put out all the spring annuals in their beds beside the front path, and under the windows of Bag End. He was of two minds about the perennials, some of which needed to be divided and moved. On the one hand he hated to leave a job half done; on the other hand was that nagging little voice that seemed to keep coming at him these days, ever since Gandalf had caught him listening to him and Mr. Frodo, the voice that said _“why bother, you won’t be here to see to it, after all, will you?”_

Well, of course that was beside the point wasn’t it. What needed doing, needed doing, and no mistake. The Gaffer’d take his head off if he thought Sam was neglecting the garden for such a silly thing as that.

Problem was, what with Mr. Frodo away to Tookland for a few days, and Gandalf tramping round the Shire while he was gone, he had too much time to think. He was still glad of the idea that he might be seeing Elves, and that he could go with his Mr. Frodo and look out for him; but he kept coming back to why they had to leave. At least now they knew where--Rivendell, to the Elves; and when--well, that would be right after The Birthday, no other day seemed right. But knowing the why of it, that took all the joy out of it. That evil Ring.

Last fall, when Mr. Merry had talked to him in _The Green Dragon_ , there was no thought of such a thing. It was just Mr. Merry’s mind seemed to run the same way Sam’s did--that sooner or later, Mr. Frodo would be off after old Mr. Bilbo, and those as didn’t wish to be left behind had best keep their eyes open. Mr. Merry was level-headed, even if he did like a joke sometimes too much, and he was right fierce when it came to Mr. Frodo. Sometimes Sam thought Mr. Merry forgot he was the younger cousin. So he’d agreed to keep his eyes and ears open, and tell Mr. Merry what was going on.

So when Gandalf had come back, Sam had taken his clippers and stationed himself where he could hear what he and Mr. Frodo were talking of. And as the talk went on, he got more and more scared, and he forgot to keep clipping, although truth to tell there wasn’t much left as needed clipping by that time. And then Gandalf had caught him. Sam shook his head; he still couldn’t believe he said something so daft as _“there ain’t no eaves at Bag End,”_ but it was just the first thing popped into his head. He didn’t really think old Gandalf would turn him into anything--but he had no doubt that he could.

And then Sam had turned right around and told Mr. Merry everything. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t breaking the promise, because it was what he heard _before_ Gandalf caught him; but he knew, deep down that it was. Only, he needed some help to protect Mr. Frodo--he couldn’t do it all alone--and he didn’t know anybody better than Mr. Merry to do that.

Only now he couldn’t help him out anymore.

He just hoped Mr. Merry would be able to figure what was going on, on his own.

-oo000oo-

Back in his own room, Pippin vainly tried to find sleep. He was no longer angry at Merry. If their positions were reversed, he’d probably be trying to do the same. But it did not change his determination to go with his cousins. If he let them go off into this kind of danger without him, he would never forgive himself.

This was no longer a light-hearted competition to put one over on Merry. This was now literally a matter of life and death. He had better begin thinking on the ways he could be of use to his cousins once they got started.

How could someone as good and wise as Frodo end up cursed with such a horrible thing? This was a question he was going to be asking himself, had he only known it, for years.

He was going to have to keep on his toes once he got to Bag End if he were to find out any details of the plans for leaving.

Well, at least he wasn’t angry at Merry any more. At this, he realized that his thoughts were going around in circles. It was going to be a long night.

-oo000oo-

Merry had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. Knowing that he now had a plan for finding out what was going on had helped.

Once he was in Bag End, he was sure he would be able to keep tabs on Frodo’s plans. The hardest part was going to be keeping Pip in the dark.

He wasn’t used to keeping secrets from Pip.  
  
---


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo returns to Bag End with Merry and Pippin; Merry has an important conversation with Sam.

CHAPTER 4

Sam had finished thinning a row of early spring radishes when he heard the sound of three hobbit voices raised in a snatch of a walking song.

That there was one of Mr. Bilbo’s songs, if Sam remembered rightly.

_“…Perry-the-Winkle grew so fat_  
through the eating of cransome bread  
his weskit bust, and never a hat  
would sit upon his head;  
for Every Thursday he went to tea,  
and sat on the kitchen floor,  
and smaller the old Troll seemed to be...*

Sounds like Mr. Frodo’s back, and brought Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin for a visit, he thought. He knew that Mr. Frodo was going to try his best to spend as much time as he could with them, seeing as how he thought he’d be leaving them behind, maybe forever. A good thing he didn’t know that one of them, anyway, was planning on not being left behind at all.

“Hullo, Sam,” said Frodo as they came up to Bag End. “Has all been going well here while I was away? Is Gandalf back yet?”

“Right as rain, Mr. Frodo. No, not yet; he wasn‘t sure how long you were going to be in Tookland, so he said he‘d be back in a week. He’s only been gone four days. Good afternoon, Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin.”

“Hullo, Sam,” answered Pippin.

“It’s good to see you again,” was Merry’s response.

“Why don’t you come into the kitchen and take tea with us, Sam, and we’ll tell you all about Cousin Pimpernel’s newest little one,” invited Frodo.

“All red and wrinkly, smelly and noisy” said her fond Uncle Pippin. “I’m sure you want to hear all about her.”

“Well, I don’t mind if I do, Mr. Frodo. Just let me put away my tools, and I’ll be right up.”

“Why don’t I give you a hand, Sam?” said Merry, with a meaning look.

Sam shook his head, but Merry ignored him, and Frodo and Pippin had already gone inside.

“Mr. Merry, you know I can’t talk to you about you-know-what anymore.”

“I know that you can’t Sam, and I won’t press you. I just wanted to be sure you know I’m not angry at you; it couldn’t be helped. I think I know enough now to be able to get on without you, anyway.” Merry picked up Sam’s trowel, and handed it to him. “We’ll be here for a few weeks, and I don’t want there to be any awkwardness. But I had forgot until we came away that Gandalf is still visiting.” Frodo had explained to his cousins that the wizard did not wish to stay alone at Bag End while Frodo saw to his family obligations, lest it cause unpleasant talk, but that he would be coming back to stay right after Frodo had returned. “Will you be all right?”

“I think so, Mr. Merry. He wants me whole and able to go with Mr. Frodo when the time comes. He’ll not turn me into anything nasty, now, I don’t think.” But to Merry’s eyes, Sam still looked a bit nervous.

“All right, Sam. Let’s stash these away, and get up to tea before they begin to wonder what we’ve found to talk about. Or not.”

-oo000oo-

Pippin was pretty sure from what Fatty had said, that Merry wouldn’t be able to pump Sam for any more information. He gave a bit of a shiver. He certainly wouldn’t want Gandalf mad at _him_.

But on the other hand, Sam would have no reason to be wary of him. The gardener would have no reason to think that Pippin knew anything at all, and he might let something slip, if only the right questions were asked.

Also, Pippin knew he’d need to keep an eye on Frodo himself. Any plans he might be making, any changes in his routine. This was going to get complicated. And he didn’t dare let Merry suspect that he was on to anything. It was absolutely necessary to not let Merry find out what he was planning until the very last minute.

And he definitely did not want Gandalf to suspect anything.  
  
---  
  
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *From “Perry-the-Winkle”, The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (The Tolkien Reader)


End file.
